A Night In Your Arms
by artist1157
Summary: Kat needs someone, and who else to show up at her window but Patrick. She is reluctant to let him enter her life, but she wants him to be there for her too. What will she decide to do when he comes to comfort her? Will he be pushed away, or let in?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, this is my first Fanfic! It's in 3rd person, switching back and forth between Kat and Patrick. I know it's out of character for them, but it seemed too horrible not to write the story this way.**

"What's wrong Kat?" He was almost pleading now, but he couldn't let her see him and give her the satisfaction of making him beg.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," she replied with a laugh. Her laugh was cold, sending a chill through his spine.

"Kat," he said, worried for her. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, puling her close. She struggled against him at first, pulling away, but he wouldn't let her go. When her sobs started to shake him, he just held on tighter, never letting go until she finally stopped and pushed him away.

She turned around and took her pajamas off and changed into a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, obviously not caring that he was still in the room. She shoved on her boots, wiped her eyes, and took his hand and pulled it towards the window.

"I'll meet you down there in a minute."

He nodded his head in response and disappeared.

She walked out the front door after telling her father she was sleeping over at Mandela's and opened her car door, knowing he would soon follow. She stared at the tree in front of her, the car started and ready to go. The minute she heard the car door shut she took off.

She drove around until she found the spot she was looking for. Far enough away from civilization, but not so far away that they couldn't hear the highway cars zooming past, a distant noise in the background.

The beach was beautiful at night under the full moon. She dragged him to a spot that was marked PRIVATE in big, red lettering. He raised his eyebrows at her, but she just continued to walk until she found a spot suitable enough for her needs. She then laid out a towel, something he just noticed she grabbed, over the sand. She plopped down with a blanket and pillow in hand, dragging him down. He lay down and got comfortable on the pillow she handed him, while she sat and watched him. She took her boots off and placed them next to her, before lying down next to him and spreading the fleece blanket out over them. When she was unable to stop squirming, she rolled over and spread herself and the blanket over him. Her hands went to his shoulders while his chest became a now comfortable pillow.

When she first laid on him, his whole body stiffened like a plank. As she got comfortable and rested her head on his beating heart, he smiled to himself and relaxed, wrapping his arms around her to keep her safe and warm in the cool breeze.

No words were exchanged as they fell asleep holding each other, yet everything that needed to be spoken was.

* * *

They were awakened early the next morning, the sun shinning brightly on them. He stirred underneath her, accidentally rousing her from her sleep. He frowned at her when she sat up, leaving the front of him cold. She looked around, squinting her eyes against the sunlight, as if she couldn't remember were she was. She turned her head to look at him and smiled, and he couldn't help but smile back.

She turned to find her boots, shaking the sand off before shoving them on her feet. He stood up and folded the towel he was laying on, caring it back to the car for her.

They both got in her car and she drove to her home. She felt his eyes boring a hole trough the side of her head, and looked over to see him staring at her, grinning like mad. This caused her to give him a small smile before turning a way to continue driving.

When they reached her house, she unbuckled her seat belt and cautiously turned to him. She put her arms around him awkwardly and brought him in close for a tight hug. He responded and brought his arms around her waist, holding her there.

"Thank you Patrick," was what she whispered into his ear. She quickly gave him a light peck on the cheek before patting his unruly mop and getting out of the car.

Knowing he would soon make an entrance, she strutted up to her room through the quiet house.

She changed into a new pair of clothes, ones not covered in sand. He entered the room through the window moments after she had pulled her new shirt on.

"Kat, I think we need to talk," he said. His voice was low, knowing that if he woke anyone up they would be dead meat.

"Then talk," she said back, her voice wavering and eyes watering on the boarder-line of tears.

"I... I need to tell you something. Something important Kat. Something I have never told any other girl before in my life," he told her. He put his hands in his pockets so she couldn't see them shaking.

She nodded her head, expecting a lecture on how she was horrible and how she was the most confusing and bitchy-est person he knew. She stared at a corner, refusing to make eye contact with him, her heart sinking.

"Kat?" He moved in on her, and she took a step back. He took another step forward and she was against the wall. He lifted her head up to look into her eyes, only to find them watery and filled with heartbreaking sadness. He dropped his hand from her face and took a tiny step back, but her gaze never changed. It was unwavering on his.

"Will you please say something Kat? You're scaring me," he begged now. It was hard to see her like this, so obviously torn and broken, maybe because of him. He would never be able to live with himself if he hurt her like this.

She opened her mouth, wanting to tell him what she had been refusing to admit to herself for a while now. She had to stop herself, for she would fall apart if she new he didn't feel the same way about her. She was supposed to be the strong, Kat Stratford. She was the big, strong, scary, bitch of a girl. That was her and her reputation. She knew it, yet she couldn't bring herself to care. So why did she care what he thought of her now?

When she opened her mouth it was only to say in a cold, bone chilling voice, "Talk."

He was surprised and taken back at the coldness in her voice. He moved in front of her again and placed his hand back on her cheek. She closed her eyes, flinching at his touch, and a tear escaped from her eye. He bent down and kissed it off her cheek.

She shivered involuntarily, loving the way his mouth felt on her skin. When she opened her eyes, he was in front of her, so close she could feel his hot breath on her. She was drinking in everything about this moment, the way he smelled like sea salt and leather, the way his hand was cool against her feverish skin, and the look he had in his eyes. She remembered her father looking at her mother like that, right before he told her he loved her.

_Love._

That was when she broke. He loved her, more than anything in this world. He didn't even need to say it for her to know. Yet, he didn't know why she was breaking, falling to pieces at his feet.

"I... I asked you to talk," she told him, her voice barely audible and so weak.

He bent down and gently kissed her on the lips, once. When he pulled away she had a faraway look in her eyes.

"I think I'm in love with you Kat," he whispered in her ear, feeling just as broken as she looked.

Her head snapped up and she looked at him intensely, then she smiled at him and started to laugh quietly. He frowned at her and took a step back. This was like a slap in the face.

"It's okay if you don't like me back, you just had to say so," he told her, looking at the floor. Disappointment and embarrassment filled him. She shook her head at him, and grabbed the front of his shirt.

"You are such an idiot sometimes," she murmured, before smashing her lips against his.

The response was quick. Pushed down on her bed, a tangle of arms, legs, and mouths.

When she came up for her third breath, she stopped him.

"For the record, I think I'm in love you too."

They smiled big, crocked grins at each other before being pulled under again, hopefully never to come up.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Patrick awoke to the loud noise of chirping birds. He looked up, realizing that this _defiantly _was not his room. When realization finally hit him, he couldn't help but grin. He felt Kat move beside him, rolling over to grab a fistful of his t-shirt. She looked so peaceful in her sleep, so innocent and loving.

_I could wake up to this face everyday_, he thought.

He lay back down and wrapped his arms around her fully clothed body. He rest his head on top of hers, breathing in her scent of vanilla and lavender. He knew that when he went home later, he would make sure that this shirt wouldn't be washed until her scent was off of it. She moved again, opening her eyes this time to find his arms around her and her hands clutched to his t-shirt. She slowly sat up, and when their eyes met, they smiled big, crooked grins at each other.

"Good-morning," she whispered to him.

"You too," he replied, giving her a light kiss.

Her stomach growled, and she blushed. He brushed her hair out of her eyes. He then took her hand and led her downstairs, despite all of her complaints.

"If my dad wakes up..." she started.

"He won't," he told her, seating her down and starting to rummage through all of the cabinets.

When he turned, she was looking at him with her eyebrows raised, questioning.

"I heard his car leave this morning," he simply stated.

She looked surprised, turning to find that he was right; her father's car was not parked in the driveway.

A loud _BANG _brought her back to reality, and she turned to see him sprawled out on the kitchen floor, with pots and lids spinning everywhere. She could help but laugh. When he turned to glare at her, she covered her mouth and went over to help him.

"That was graceful," she noted.

"Excuse me for being human!" he exclaimed, feigning a dramatic sigh.

"Oh, were human now. Just a few minutes ago, I thought you were a vampire. We can't keep changing our persona. It's rude," she chastised, suppressing a smile.

"No, last time I checked I was human. Are telling me that my girlfriend is the type of girl to make-out with a vampire and not tell me?" he teased. All she heard him say was _girlfriend_. She was surprised and taken aback to hear him call her that. His girlfriend. She was his girlfriend and he was her boyfriend. She was trying to wrap her head around the thought, when she was pulled back from her thoughts by his fingers snapping in front of her face.

Her head snapped up to look into his onyx eyes. "How many eggs do you want?"

"Oh." She looked down from his eyes to see that the stove was on, and there was already butter in the frying pan, sizzling. "Two," she answered quickly, amused at the sight of Patrick Verona making scrambled eggs in her kitchen.

"What are you staring at?" he inquired finally.

"You," she said. She hadn't even realized that she had said that out loud, until he smiled and held a hand to his heart and said back, "I'm flattered."

Her cheeks reddened, and she made herself move to the other side of the kitchen, far away from him to give herself a breather.

It wasn't even five minutes when he came over with two plates and forks, setting them down on the table. He left shortly and came back with two glasses of milk. He sat down and motioned with his head for her to come on over. She defiantly made her way over to the table, sitting down, her energy and confidence renewed.

They both ate in silence, her looking down at her plate. She could feel him starting her, his eyes burning a hole through her head. It was difficult to concentrate on looking down, when he was staring at her with such a determined look in his eyes.

He was defiantly determined, to fully figure her out. One minute, she was telling him how stupid he was and how she loathed him, the next she was admitting that she loved him, just as much as he loved her. The walls are up then down, then there up again- just like they were now. He didn't want her to have her walls up with him. He wanted her to trust him and to be comfortable with him all the time. He didn't want to ever see her put her walls up with him again, and he was _determined_ to get her to fully trust him. He would too, no matter what it took.

After they finished eating and cleaned up all evidence that someone had cooked, she dragged him upstairs by the collar. She pushed him into her room, shutting and locking the door before jumping on him. He barely caught her, surprised by her motivation and random attack. She had him eating out of the palm of her hand. Right now, he was sitting in her desk chair, with her straddling him. She was the one in control right now, and he wanted her to be. He didn't always want to have to start the kiss or make the first move.

She was moving her hands up and down his chest, their foreheads pressed together. Her eyes were darkened, and he knew that she was up to something. She finally moved her hands underneath his shirt, slowly moving it up. He caught his breath when she did this, and froze, waiting for her next move and trying not to shiver at her touch. Her next move was to take his shirt off, which was easily done with his help. She was exploring unconquered territory, as if she was claiming him right then and there. He couldn't but smile when she shuddered at his touch, and all he did was drag his fingers across her stomach.

After much anticipation and waiting, she finally bent down and started to kiss him, making him gasp and wrap him arms around her waist. She hadn't even kissed his lips, but she had kissed his neck- and was sure doing a fine job of it. At this point, he couldn't even breathe and he was sure that she could hear his heart pounding in his chest. She was so close to him, and doing things that he had never thought she would do.

He shuddered and moaned when her hands slid down to his pants, and he couldn't contain himself any longer. He reached up to grab her face in his hands, and he smashed his lips onto hers. She was surprised at first, breaking off the kiss. She gave him a warning look before unzipping and unbuttoning his pants while pressing her mouth against his. He finally got the guts up to take her shirt off, and she let him. She licked his lower lip, biting down on it, making him groan her name. She was the only girl to every make him do that, and he was surprised when he heard himself groan it.

His groaning only excited her more, the kissing becoming a full out French make-out session. They both wanted to crawl into each other's skin, exploring each other. He was exploring her just as much and as thoroughly as she had explored him. She was flushed when his hands went under her bra, but she didn't stop him, and he took that as a sign to keep things rolling.

Soon, they were on the bed, in their underclothes, macking on each other like they were each other's only form of life support. The minute he unclasped her bra, she broke away, saying, "Stop."

He looked at her, gorgeous, as she was, confused and hurt. She had been the one to start the fiasco, and now she was the one to put a stop to it.

"What?" he finally said to her, still breathing heavily.

"Not here," she told him, finding her bottoms and pulling them on, "Not now."

He ran his hands threw his hair, trying not to scream. She looked pissed off, and he finally just couldn't handle her anymore.

"You know what? I'm done. I am so done with you, and with all of this," tears started to blur his vision as he got more and more worked up. He shoved his pants on and was rummaging around on the floor, trying to find his shirt. When he found it he shoved it on, working himself up for what he wanted to say to her.

"Patrick listen," she started, unsure what to say to him.

"No, you listen to me. I get you, okay. I understand that you don't want to be "that girl" or whatever. But I _love_ you, and I would think that you would know that I would never do anything to you without your permission. I know that you may not think so, but I just want you to know that I'm always here for you and that I'll never leave. When you can finally learn to _trust_ me and to keep these walls of your down, I'll be waiting. But this is something that you have to do on your own Kat. I can't help you with this. When you finally think that you are ready, you know where to find me."

When he was done talking, he got up and left. She heard him start his motorcycle and drive off. She couldn't move though. She was stuck, in her bottoms and bra, clutching onto her shirt like it was the last thing she would ever need to survive. She felt like she had just been slapped in the face, and technically she had.

She didn't know how long she was standing there for until her sister came in, asking to go out with her friends. She jumped when she heard Bianca's voice, breaking out of her trance. Looking at the clock, it was about noon, meaning she had been standing there for a good two hours.

She immediately told her sister to go on ahead, and to remember curfew. When she heard her sister squeal and the front door slam shut, she got up and took off her old clothes and put new ones on. She ran out to her car and jumped in, driving to his house. She knew what she had to do.


	3. Chapter 3

When she got there she parked across the street. She sat in her car and stared at his house, hoping he still wouldn't be angry with her, and that he would accept her apology.

Taking a deep breath she got out of her car and she rapped on the door a few times. When the door opened, it wasn't him. Even worse, it was his mother.

When you looked at Mrs. Verona, you could tell where Patrick got his looks from. His mom had the same long, dark curly hair and the same facial structure, but his mom's features were more sharpened and defined in her son.

"Hello, how might I help you?" She asked politely.

"Um... is Patrick home?" She asked uncertainly. She didn't want to come off creepy, knowing that Patrick has had a few girl stalkers in the past.

"Oh, yes let me get him," she turned around and hollered into the house, "PATRICK, there's someone at the door for you!"

"Be right there!" he called back. When she heard his voice her heart started to race, and her confidence started to waver.

She was brought out of her thoughts when his mom invited her inside, and she took off her shoes. She heard his footsteps coming down the stairs, and bit her lip nervously.

He rounded the corner and came to a dead halt when he saw her, standing there in his foyer, his mom talking to her like an old time friend. He forgot to breathe for a moment, and realized that he should say something to her. Then he remembered that he was mad at her, for what she did this morning. He was still hurt and his heart had defiantly been broken. The fact that she was here either meant that this would be their break-up or make-up. He really hoped the make-up, for he didn't want to lose her so soon.

She was listening to his mom talk, when he cleared his throat. They made eye contact and the room became silent. Mrs. Verona looked between the two, unsure what was going on. The girl, Katerina, she had learned, looked very tired- but confident and determined. Her son, on the other hand, looked surprised to see her and was visibly upset by her being here.

"I'll leave you two alone for now, but if you need anything I'll just be in the kitchen," Mrs. Verona said, breaking the silence and giving Patrick a meaningful glance as she passed by.

When his mom left to go into the kitchen he turned and walked upstairs with her following shortly after. He brought her to his room and he shut the door behind him.

She had never seen his bedroom before, and she couldn't suppress a smirk when she walked in. It was relatively clean, the bed made and no clothes on the floor. His desk was scattered with sheets of paper and there was a picture of him, his mother, and possibly his father on the nightstand. She stood in the middle of the room until he gestured for her to sit on the edge of the bed, while he sat in his desk chair across the room. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to stop his hands from shaking. He was supposed to be mad at her still, but seeing her here, he couldn't bring himself to. He noticed that she was sitting on her hands as well. He couldn't help but wonder if it was for the same reason.

"Why are you here?" He asked, trying to start the conversation.

She looked at the ground, and nervously looked at him. She took a deep breath and said, "I wanted to apologize to you for what I did to you earlier. I thought about what you said and I realized that _I do_ trust you, and I would trust you with my life. I also realized how much I need you in my life, and how much I love you, and how I regret letting you walk out my front door this morning without telling you that."

He looked at her in silence, dumbfounded. "What did you say?" He asked, shocked that those words would ever leave her mouth.

She smirked at him and crossed the room to straddle his lap for the second time today. "I said that I trust you, I need you, and I love you. _I. Love. You_.," she bent down and kissed him, with all the passion and love that she could muster. He returned the feelings, his hands wrapped around her waist, bringer her closer and keeping her there. She brought her hands up around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

When the kiss was broken off, he whispered, "I love you too."

They both grinned and he lift her up and spun her around. Her laughter sounded throughout the room, and it was the greatest thing that he could have ever heard in that moment. He had to laugh at her laughing. He couldn't help himself for she was so contagious. He pulled her down on his bed, lying down, with her on top of him. She lay there, just listening to the beating of his heart, thinking about how lucky she was to have him and how she would never let him slip away from her again. He was thinking the same thing, running his fingers though her long, silky locks while his other hand wrapped around her waist.

"I need you too you know," he whispered to her. She didn't say anything but nodded her head against his chest, acknowledging what he had said, yawning loudly.

"Come on, get under the covers and go to sleep. I'll wake you up later."

"Thank you," she said as she moved to climb into the covers with him, before resuming to her former position on him. She fell asleep with him stroking her hair and the beating of his heart in her ear, a feeling and sound that she could get very used to.

* * *

Mrs. Verona was down in the kitchen, scrubbing the stove with all her might and trying to hear a noise coming from her son's room. When she heard no noise coming from upstairs she couldn't help but start to worry. Judging by the way Patrick was looking at the girl, Katerina, he was not looking forward to talking to her. She had expected screaming and yelling, followed by stomping down the stairs and slamming of the front door- the usual break-up scene. When it had been over an hour, she was getting worried that something had happened.

She made her way upstairs, and called her sons name and knocked on the door. When she got no reply, she opened the door and was very surprised to find her son and the girl asleep in his bed. Both looked peaceful and happy. The girl was lying on top of her son, and his arms were protectively and _lovingly_ wrapped around her. She was surprised to find them like this, for the last time Patrick ever let a girl into the house was to break-up with them and throw them away like a rag. She looked at this site wide-eyed, not quite sure what to think about this.

She walked over and touched her sons shoulder, shaking it lightly. When he awoke, he tightened his grip on the girl and looked up to find his mother standing over him, with a _You-Better-Explain-What's-Going-On_ expression on her face.

Patrick put a finger to his lips, his expression exhausted. His mother motioned him to come with her, _now_. He put up a finger, telling her to wait. He slowly untangled himself from the girl, careful not to wake her. She whispered his name and grabbed his shirt, and he told her that he would come back to her. He tucked her back in the covers, and kissed her on the forehead. His mother was standing in the doorway, her eyebrows raised and a surprised expression on her face. Patrick followed his mother downstairs into the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" Mrs. Verona asked, exasperated.

"What do you mean _What are you doing?_" Patrick questioned back, anger stating to fill him.

"What is that _girl_ doing here still? We've talked about this, I don't like the fact that you play around with girls that are _hoes_ and then cast them aside like last weeks old news. I thought we agreed that you would knock off playing around and finally be serious with your life. Things were going so well too! Then all of a sudden I don't see you all day and you come home in the morning, which I've spoken to you about already, clearly upset. Then this girl comes along, obviously making you mad. I then come upstairs and your sleeping with her in your bed. What is this Patrick? I thought I raised you better than this!" Mrs. Verona was breathing heavily, her face red.

Her son was looking at his mother, arms- crossed on his chest, his angry expression turned into an amused one.

"Mom, that "hoe" up there is my girlfriend," he stated simply.

He watched his mom's expression change from anger to astonishment.

"You're girlfriend," she said slowly, like she wasn't sure if he was playing some sort of joke on her.

"Yes, my girlfriend," he repeated to her.

"Oh."

The kitchen was silent for a minute.

"You looked very protective of her while you were asleep," she stated to him.

"Yeah, well. What of it?" he asked defensively.

"Nothing," his mother said to herself, smiling.

"You think you've got me all figured out now, don't you?" he accused.

"Not at all sweetheart. I never said anything, now did I?"

He looked at his mother, frustrated, knowing what she wanted to hear from him.

"Okay God, I'll tell you what you want to know!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air and plopping down on a wooden chair.

"I never said I wanted to know anything," she said, feigning innocence.

"Yeah, well you were not wanting to know anything very loudly," he grumbled.

"But really sweetie, how much do like this girl? Will I expect to be seeing her around more often or not?" she asked, generously curious.

He looked up at his mom, the woman who had always been openly honest with him whenever he asked her something like this. She had always been honest with him, so it was his turn to be honest with her. After everything he had put her through, she at least deserved this.

"I love her mom," he told her quietly, looking at the ground, embarrassed to admit something like this to his mother. "She isn't like any of the other girls I've known. She is smart, witty, and definitely not afraid of me. She's gorgeous and she makes me feel me alive. I have never wanted anyone as badly as I've wanted her and once I got her, I found that I needed her more than I could ever imagine. I plan to keep her coming around, if I'm lucky enough for her to keep me."

Mrs. Verona looked at her son, who was looking at his hands, his face red. "Well, I'm glad that you have found someone who makes you so happy Patrick and I'm proud of you for that. Just, don't go and get yourself into something that will only break your heart. Okay?"

Patrick looked up at his mother, nodding his head.

"Now go and get up there. Your love is waiting for you," Mrs. Verona smiled at her son, hugging him an giving a kiss on the check before he headed upstairs, his face as happier than she's seen in years.

* * *

When he went back upstairs Kat was still sleeping soundly on his bed. He went over and pulled her hair back from her face. He sat at his desk and shuffled through the papers scattered everywhere. They were all song lyrics that he was trying to write, about Kat. But every time he went to write about her, he made her sound too good for him, like he was some lovesick puppy. This was true, but he wanted the song to be about how he felt about her, not why she was to good to be true. To show her that he has changed because of her.

He stared at the blank page in front of him, no inspiration coming to him. He felt useless. He threw his pen down on the desk in frustration.

Kat moved in his bed, slowly waking up. He went over to her and sat next to her. She opened her eyes to find him next to her, watching her. She smiled a small smile, and sat up to crawl into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, making her feel safer than any place on earth. She could stay here forever, wrapped up in Patrick Verona. She highly doubted that her father would allow that to happen.

"You know that you're going to have to talk to my father sooner or later," she stated.

"Yeah, well I still have to formally introduce you to my mother, so that makes two of us," he told her, rolling his eyes.

"Here, why don't we do that right now," He said, pulling her up off of the bed with him and dragging her downstairs as she smoothed out her now wrinkled shirt and disarrayed hair. He never thought she looked cuter, but he understood her motives for looking nice when formally meeting his mother.

His mom had moved from cleaning the kitchen to watching the evening news in the den. He pulled Kat into the den and stood by the TV. His mother looked up in confusion, seeing her son and his girlfriend standing in front of her, holding hands.

"Mom, I would like you to meet my girlfriend, Katerina Stratford. Kat, I would like you to meet my mom, Linda Verona," he held his hand out, pointing to each person as he introduced them to each other.

Kat leaned forward to shake his mother's hand, saying, "It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Verona."

"Just call me Linda sweetie, and it's such a pleasure to meet you too Katerina," Linda smiled at Kat, thinking that she looked like a nice person and was beautiful, just as Patrick had said.

"You can call me Kat, ma'am, everyone else does," Kat said as she retreated to stand back near Patrick.

There was an awkward silence, where no one knew what to say and no one wanted to be the one to break the silence.

Finally Patrick stepped in, "Well Mom, Kat's go to go home. I'll just walk her to her car."

"That's fine sweetheart, and it was nice to meet you Kat. I hope to have you over for dinner sometime soon," she said smiling at Kat.

"I would love that, thank you. It was nice to meet you too Linda," Kat replied, nervous all of a sudden, thinking of how this dinner with his _mother_ would turn out.

The minute they got into her car she turned to Patrick and mumbled, "She didn't like me."

He looked at her, raising his eyebrows slightly, an amused expression on his face. "I thought that she liked you, considering the few words that were exchanged."

She chucked, saying, "Well, I've yet to have dinner with her, so you may not want to call that card quite yet."

That shut him up for a minute, and she started her car, turning on her headlights so she could see now that it had gotten darker, the sun setting allowing the sky to light up in flames. She turned to him and leaned forward, and he came to meet her in the middle. Their kiss was loving and affectionate, and when then parted she whispered, "Good night."

"Good night," he whispered back after a second, regaining his composure. He sat there for a minute, staring at her and trying to memorize everything about her in this one moment. A moment they could never get back. This was them, the bad boy and the shrew, coming together as one. He leaned in to give her another loving kiss, making her eyes sparkle. He knew that her eyes mirrored his own, and he traced the outline of her lips with his finger.

"I love you Kat," he whispered when he rested his forehead against hers.

She smiled, loving the sound that those three words made coming out of his mouth, with her name attached.

"I love you too Patrick," she whispered back, just as quietly. They grinned at each other, him kissing her forehead before climbing out of her car.

She waved before backing out of the driveway. He stood there, waving back until he could no longer see her car, which had faded away in the distance.

He turned around to look at the sunset, wanting to jump and shout with joy. He sat on his front steps and watched the sunset fade away, thinking about how there will always be tomorrow. Even though he didn't want this day to end, he couldn't help but go inside and wait for the start of a brand new day.


	4. Chapter 4

Monday mornings always sucked. It didn't matter what time you got up at, it always felt the same- tired and groggy. Kat and Patrick were both on different sides of town, but their morning routine was similar. Get up, get dressed, eat some food, brush teeth, go to school, and try to make it through another day of living hell. It was annoying, to have to come here repeatedly. It was like school was a shampoo that is stuck in your hair- it just won't let you rinse and repeat.

This Monday, though, was slightly different. Both Kat and Patrick were looking forward to going to school today, just so they could see the other. Not like either of them would admit that to the other, but it was apparent to every one around them that they weren't getting up for themselves today, but for someone else.

Kat had fun, that morning, trying to pick out something to wear that would impress him, but look like she wasn't trying. She didn't want to turn into one of his stupid bimbos, and she knew she never would, being her feminist self. She just didn't want to start dressing like one of those girls either. She ended up picking something she would wear on any normal day, and left the house with some lip-gloss on and a bounce in her step.

Unlike Kat, Patrick didn't care about the clothing. He looked at himself in the mirror that morning and asked himself, "_What the hell am I supposed to do with this hair?"_ He knew that most girls loved his hair, but he never understood why. It was just so unmanageable and unruly- he could never to anything he wanted with it. He stood in front of the mirror for ten minutes trying to tame it, but his trials failed miserably, and he had to leave it like it was.

He got to school, and people did what they usually did when he approached. They gave him a scared look before running in the other direction. The only time that they didn't cower was when a girl wanted to get laid, and they assumed that they could get into his pants. It was funny that he had that reputation, when he had only ever slept with two other girls in his whole life. He hadn't ever slept with anyone else, or really had the desire to (with the exception of a certain luscious brunette). He parked in his normal spot. By now, everyone knew that this spot was off limits. From here, he could see the whole parking lot, and waited for Kat to pull in with her monster Volvo.

When Kat did pull up, she wasn't even concerned about where she was going to park today. She was just looking for him. She parked, ignoring Bianca's complains about today and how she is going to have to go suck up to Chastity some more. She slammed the door and sulked off to the front doors of the school. Kat locked the car and slammed the door as well, caching Patrick's eye and walking over to his spot. Both were smirking at each other, him standing up off his bike to give her a small kiss before grabbing her hand to walk into school for another _wonderful_ day in hell.

* * *

Rumors spread fast. True or not, by second period, the whole entire school knew of their kiss in the parking lot. The real question was,_ Is she the new flavor of the week, or is she here to stay?_ It was very interesting for both Patrick and Kat to be rumors of a relationship. They were used to and could handle rumors about their families, that they were adopted, or that they slept around or were a slut. This was a new experience for them both.

By lunch, people were giving them knowing looks as they passed the two of them in the hallway. But like always, Kat and Patrick ignored them. What else could they do? They knew that them being together would bring some publicity and some talk. It's not everyday that the school shrew and bad boy get together, and plan to stay together. Throughout the day, a few brave souls came up and asked them what was really going on. The response was always the same between the two of them, a glare and a smirk. That always kept them away them minute they said, "I was wondering..."

It was fun, they found, playing "the couple". They went through school the normal way. No extra cuddling or smooching, not giving any wiggle room away. These mouth- breathers of Padua High were not going to simply "get" anything from them. They were going to have to wait their turn, to see if thing was really going to last.

When school was over, Pat followed Kat home in her car. Her sister had practice and was caching a ride home. They got home and ate. It was silent, tension building up in the room. It was weird, knowing that the other one was watching them, memorizing. Making sure that they knew each other even if their eyes were closed. Kat migrated to the living room, where Patrick soon followed. Shoes were taken off, soon where jackets and sweaters. Snuggling was an automatic no-brainer. He stretched out on the couch, and she saw the perfect opportunity to lay down on him. The TV was turned on and changed around until something bearable could be found to watch. She pulled down the afghan on the couch over them. Her head nested into the crook of his neck, and his arms wrapped around her.

The only sound was the announcer on the TV, talking to them about the new product to look for in stores. Neither of them where watching the TV though. He was playing with her dark, silken hair, and she was tracing aimless patterns on his muscular chest. They just wanted to be near each other, and both were emotionally exhausted, so no words were exchanged between the two of them.

When the TV special ended and the TV turned off, she lifted her head up, lightly kissing him on his neck, making her way up to his lips. He waited patiently, eyes closed, not breathing, waiting for her mouth to meet his. When it did, he immediately took over, sinking into the couch. The kisses that were exchanged were soft and gentle, neither of them up for a heavy make-out session. Her hands were now clutching his shirt while his hands pressed her closer to him, trying to deepen the kiss into more than the soft, gentle caresses that they had been giving each other.

The door that quietly shut was not heard by them, but the loud, "Honey, I'm ho--- whoa!" by her father was heard. It was heard loud and clear.

* * *

Kat had quickly jumped off Patrick, both sitting on opposite ends of the couch, making sure that there was no physical contact between them to set her father off even more. They soon found themselves taped to kitchen chairs, the backs of the chairs facing each other. Her father had been ridiculing them for a while now, and it had become late enough that Bianca had bounced through the door, squealing, "Daddy, you couldn't even believe what happened at practice today..."

She stopped abruptly at the sight of her sister and her sister's boyfriend taped up to kitchen chairs, her red-faced father talking to them about the consequences of having sex.

"Hi Bianca," Kat said casually, causing a distraction for her father.

"Bianca, not now honey, I'm in the middle of a lecture," her father said sternly, making her sister scamper upstairs- knowing well enough not to get involved.

Kat was used to this, so she knew that she just had to bear through it until it was over with. She had heard everything that was being said before, and she was humiliated that Patrick had to sit and listen to this as well. Patrick, on the other hand, was more or less bored. It wasn't as if the stuff that Mr. Stratford was saying wasn't important, it was. Sure, AIDS is a disease that can kill you. Thanks for the heads up, Mr. S, I really needed to be reminded of that one. He didn't need to hear any of the stuff that was lectured because it only made him feel the need to work to impress her father. The blow to his ego was small, but it was still enough to know that he was going to have to work harder than usual to get along with her father. He was already in this relationship too deep to take a step back to get on better terms with daddy dearest anyway. It was like Walter was his father- in- law, and hated him, but decided to tell him after the marriage.

Don't get him wrong, he loved Kat, and meant it too. Her father on the other hand, would be a hard egg to crack. There would have to be some boiling in order to crack Wallie's shell. He already knew he needed some water, some salt, and a nice, steady, hot flame. What he didn't know was the _time_ that it would take to even make a single crack.


	5. Chapter 5

Bonding was always a wonderful thing. Especially when the man that you had to bond with has been lecturing you for the past hour, and is the father of your girlfriend. It was even better when his mother showed up, out of breath and just as angry as her father. This bonding circle was near completion. All they would need would be the rest of the family and they might be able to sing _Kumbaya_.

When the doorbell rang, Kat and Patrick thanked the Lord. It lasted for a whole five seconds before his mother walked through the door, and they were both thinking, "_Crap._"

Ms. Verona's face was just an angry as Dr. Stratford's, yet when she saw them taped to the chairs, she abruptly stopped walking towards them and blinked a couple times, like she really couldn't believe that her son would allow himself to be taped to a chair.

She finally sighed and dropped her bag on the floor, "Mr. Stratford what's going on here?"

Dr. Stratford looked at the women who just stormed through his house, "And you might be..."

"Linda Verona, Patrick's mother," she said tightly.

"Walter Stratford, Kat's father," he awkwardly brought his hand out for a shake. She looked at it for a moment, like she wasn't sure if he was serious or not. Finally she took his hand to shake it. After the formalities, things were brought down to business.

"I found them, making out in my living room! As you may well know, this is not acceptable behavior and will not be tolerated in my household. I have already talked to them about the dangers of having sex. If there is anything that you want to add, please be free to do so while they are unable to make a run for it."

Ms. Verona looked at Dr. Stratford, her eyebrow raised, in a _are-you-kidding-me_ look. Things got uncomfortable for a moment, before Ms. Verona finally asked, "Patrick, were you and Katerina making out in Mr. Stratford's living room?"

"Well, that is not how I would put it. We were kissing each other on the couch though," Patrick answered her pointedly, making sure he made eye contact with his mother, silently pleading her to get him out of this.

"Was any harm done to anything or anyone?"

"No mom."

Ms. Verona turned to Dr. Stratford. She looked tired and annoyed. Calmly, she said, "Then Mr. Stratford, I really don't see what the problem here is."

Walter Stratford was not used to having another person question his word. His daughters were used to it, and his colleges listened to him because he's the boss. He had forgotten what it felt like to be questioned of his authority.

His daughter, of course, was very interested in seeing what her father was going to say. When he paused to think about what Ms. Verona had just said, she knew that he was stuck, and she couldn't hold back a smirk. By now, she knew not to question her father's word unless she knew that she would be able to win. She had to pick her battles, and her father just picked one that he certainly wasn't going to win.

* * *

When all was said and done, Kat and Patrick were unbound and allowed up out of their chairs. Their muscles ached, and they stretched while their parents moved to the other room to talk.

"Sorry about him," Kat whispered to him, embarrassed that he had to sit through all of that.

"Anything for you," Patrick whispered back, like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

She reached up to wrap her arms around his neck to bring him closer, burying her head in his neck. He responded as soon as she had started to move towards him. His arms wrapped around her waist, his head lying on hers. They stood there for a while, wrapped up in each other and in their own thoughts. From afar, they looked like any other couple their age- young and in love.

It would be natural for their moment to be ruined. Ms. Verona came marching out of the kitchen, shoving her arms in her jacket sleeves. She called her son's name, beckoning him to come with her. Her son looked at his girlfriend, smiling before giving her a small kiss.

"It was a pleasure to see you Katerina, and to meet your father. I will be seeing you for dinner on Saturday night," Ms. Verona said pleasantly, before grabbing her purse and son, and walking out of the door- into the dark night.

* * *

**I want to thank everyone who has commented. Thank you for your feedback, it really matters to me!**

**Sorry this was so short, but it's a set up for the upcoming chapter...**

**Preview: "Seriously, masterpieces? Can you even cut cucumbers?"**


	6. Chapter 6

Dinner. It was Kat's decision what was going to be made for her guests, and she had no idea what to cook. Since it was _her_ boyfriend and his mother coming for dinner, her father thought that it would be a splendid idea for _her_ to cook. The tenth time she flipped through the cookbook, she finally decided on something simple, like lasagna.

The food was made and in the oven, and she was putting away the spices when she heard her father walk through the door. "I smell food!" He examined, causing her to roll her eyes.

She was wiping her hands off on the kitchen towel after cleaning up the mess she had made with the lasagna when the doorbell rang. "I got it!"

She ran to the door, wiping her self off and brushing her hair off her face, trying to look presentable. She opened the door, and Patrick and his mother were both standing there, waiting to be welcomed in. Her father was soon behind her, ushering them into the house. The drinks had been passed out when the oven beeped, and Kat jumped up to take the food out and cut the salad. It was not long before she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist, and a muscular chest press against her back.

"Hey," she murmured, turning her head to the side so that he could reach her lips.

After their short kiss, he let her go to roll up his sleeves. "Okay, what can I do to help?" He asked, so sweetly, that she had to look at him like he had lost his mind. She reached her hand up and pressed it to his forehead. Normal.

"Are you sure you don't have a fever, 'cause I'm pretty sure that Patrick Verona doesn't come and _willingly _offer to help a poor, unfortunate soul like myself," she said, sarcasm dripping off every word, batting her doe-eyes and swooning at "poor, unfortunate soul".

He looked at her, amused by the little show that she was putting on for him, "Why can't I help around the kitchen without being chastised for the great masterpieces I create?"

"Seriously, masterpieces? Can you even cut cucumbers?"

"Watch and learn honey, watch and learn..."

The kitchen was quiet for a moment while they each chopped the different vegetables that needed to be included in the salad. They finished, no one getting injured, and served dinner without arguing or making any sarcastic remarks.

As they sat down, Linda, as she informed Kat and Walter to call her, turned to Kat and asked, "So Kat, got any big plans for the future?"

Kat finished chewing her bite, "Well, I'm planning to go to Brown to get a degree in social policies and change the world. The real world. I want to go big, you know? I figure, why not start now, so by the time I can really make a difference in the world the work has already been started."

"Ah, so an activist?" Linda seemed surprised by this, partly because her son never mentioned how socially conscious his girlfriend was, or the fact that she was planning on moving to the other side of the country if she ever got the chance to.

"Yes, very much so."

"Kat is very conscious and believes in doing what is right for the greater good. Well, now sometimes that greater good does include herself, but I must say she has done a pretty good job of making due for now," Walter added, smiling proudly at his oldest daughter. It was always funny to hear her tell everyone what she wanted to be as she grew up. First she wanted to be a doctor, than an astronaut, a scientist, a novelist, and now an activist. Whatever it was though, it was always the biggest you could get, and knowing Kat, she would do anything in her power to be the one that comes out on top.

"So Kat, what does your mother think of all this? I'm sure she has her opinion on the subject," Linda said jokingly, a laughing ring in her voice. The table became quiet, and Linda looked around the table, not sure why no one would look at her.

Finally, Kat looked up, her eyes sad. "My mother died of cancer when I was ten."

Linda looked shocked and guilty before saying, "I'm so sorry honey. I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine," Kat snapped. More softly she added, "You couldn't have known."

The table was silent for a minute, no one wanting to break the silence.

"So Patrick, what about you? What are you planning to do in the future?" Walter asked calmly, before shoving a forkful of salad into his mouth.

Patrick looked nervously at Kat, who grabbed his hand under the table and gave it a light squeeze of encouragement.

"Well sir, I was planning on eventually getting an engineering degree and opening up my own mechanic shop," he said, as calmly as Walter had asked it. Staying cool was his game, and he knew that he was winning when he noticed Walters face light up in surprise.

"Really?" Walter asked, like he wasn't sure if he was hearing right.

"Well yes sir. You know, Kat has found a passion in social liberties, and I've found a passion in mechanical engineering. It's the same passion and drive, just a different dream."

After that little speech, everyone at the table was looking at Patrick. Kat had a proud and loving look on her face. Linda was looking at her son as if she was just meeting him for the first time. Walter looked taken-a-back and impressed that Patrick would stand up to him like this.

"That's interesting. I never would have pegged you for that type of guy," Walter finally said.

After that, Kat and Patrick zoned off into their own little world of secret smiles and footsies. The rest of dinner was spent with Walter and Linda yapping it off. They talked about their jobs, their homes, and what it was like to raise their kids.

Overall, you could say that dinner was a success.

Later on that evening, while their parents were still yapping- over the second bottle of wine, Kat pulled on Patrick, leading him upstairs. She quietly shut the door as he took his boots off so that he could lay on her bed. She smiled and chuckled as she sat near him.

"What's so funny?" he asked, looking up at her.

"Nothing," she replied innocently, not wanting to say anything.

"No really. I know I'm gorgeous and everything, but you don't have to keep your jokes on the inside," smirking, he lifted propped himself on his elbow, waiting for her answer.

She closed her eyes for a minute and took a deep breath. "I was just thinking how for once, you came into my room through the door and not through the window."

"I've come in through your door before. At your party, when you called me China and accused me of being a criminal."

"You're not China or a criminal, and I apologized for that already. At least you told me I did when I was drunk," she looked at him, eyebrows raised and her gaze skeptical.

"You being drunk wasn't too bad. It was refreshing, just like the time you made out with me on the beach..."

She smacked him in the arm lightly. And let her body sink into her bed.

It was quite, a passing car the only noise that could be heard.

"Technically, you're the criminal you know," he stated randomly.

She looked at him, ready to defend herself when she said, "And why is that?"

He moved so that he was hovering over her before bending down and kissing her softly.

"You stole my heart, Kat. You ripped in right out of my chest." His sincerity floored her and she smiled a genuine, heartfelt smile.

"Really now? I'm sure I left your heart right where it's always has been," she whispered to him, placing her hand on his chest to feeling it's rhythmic pumping.

He looked down at her and smiled, whispering back, "Just don't break it, okay?"

She nodded her head, and gasped- caught off guard when he swooped down to kiss her hungrily underneath her jaw. By now they knew the routine. Her hands wrapped around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. Her body arched towards his, and no matter how much of a feminist she was, she couldn't prevent how her body reacted to his. He knew better by now then to take over because she wouldn't allow that. She had to have power too, given that they were both so headstrong. They eventually made it under the covers, kissing and sucking at each other. He was underneath her now, letting her take the reigns for a while. They were both panting and breathless and knew that this was not the time to be getting into anything sexual. She eventually brought the kissing to a stop, and rolled off of him. He rolled over to accommodate her, fitting himself into her backside, wrapping his arm around her waist and putting his face near her neck. Even though the kissing stopped, he still traced patterns lightly on the exposed part of her stomach and breathed in her scent. She gently brushed her toes against his legs, just to make sure he was still there. They laid silently, trapped in their own thoughts. Her wondering why she always felt so safe around him, while he was wondered why her warmth was all he needed to get through the night.

Night. It was late now, around eleven. It was too late for family, too late for friends. The only person she wanted to be around this late was him; and the only person he would ever allow himself to be around this late was her. He was hers, and she was his- and the night belonged to them both.


End file.
